I’ve spent the last few months on and off trying to get an AIDS mural in my community. I spent January running the idea by my Major (numerous times), getting a wall approved, buying primary materials in other villages, and doing research and sketches of what HIV prevention methods I thought would be appropriate to portray. I spent most of February begging the Major to find someone to cement the wall.
The one part of the project I couldn’t do myself was the cementing, and the wall is a stucco type thing that you just can’t paint. Well, the guy who did the cement did a terrible job. My Major paid him anyway, but since his payment was the only contribution I asked from my CSPS, I figured it was up to them to decide what he deserved. Besides that, the guy tried to rip me off by saying he needed more cement. Instead of just handing him money (I have learned a thing or two) I went and bought the cement itself and had it sent over. It was sent back. “He didn’t really need it, he said” the kid told me. Great. So here I am with another half a bag of cement no one needs.
The one part of the project I couldn’t do myself was the cementing, and the wall is a stucco type thing that you just can’t paint. Well, the guy who did the cement did a terrible job. My Major paid him anyway, but since his payment was the only contribution I asked from my CSPS, I figured it was up to them to decide what he deserved. Besides that, the guy tried to rip me off by saying he needed more cement. Instead of just handing him money (I have learned a thing or two) I went and bought the cement itself and had it sent over. It was sent back. “He didn’t really need it, he said” the kid told me. Great. So here I am with another half a bag of cement no one needs.
Whatever. The guy did a bad job, but I can paint it and try to fix the cement drips and it’ll work out, I thought. I did the first white coat with my nurses. I was excited they wanted to help though they are still asking me for payment… which is getting old. I spent the end of February drawing out all of the grids on the wall and on my sketches. Last week I finished the pencil drawings on the grids and was decently satisfied. There was one place the cement had fallen off but I was sure my nurse could fix it if he decided to.
I started the painting today. I walked to the CSPS with the paint in my backpack. As I laid out all the supplies I’d gathered I realized I’d forgotten the pop bottles to mix paints in. I didn’t feel like walking all the way back to my house to get them so I decided but that I could bring them tomorrow. I looked at the penciled in drawings and sighed. I suppose, I thought, I can just do the outlines today.
So I went to get water. Of course, we were out. My CSPS never has water because none of the nurses go get it. I made a similar comment to the Pharmacist. This isn’t America, she replied. No, I said, my friend works at a CSPS here and they have water. It’s just because none of the nurses wants to get it. I was getting in a bad mood. I took a breath.
Is that pump working? I asked. I’d noticed no one was using it today. Nope, she replied. You should fix it for us. That’s your job, to help us. So you should give us money to fix the pump. No, I replied. you know that’s not my job. I’ve explained my job to you before. It is not my job to fix your pump and it’s not my job to give out money. She laughed at me.
Go to robinet (a kind of pump you pay for) right behind the CSPS then. Yeah, and who’s gonna pay for that? You can, she tells me. No, I think, I really can’t. I really don’t have money to spare this month. I don’t have the money, I say. She laughs again. If you’re going to be like that go away from me. I’m tired. I’m just joking she said. Am I laughing? I say. She leaves.
I walk the 10 minutes to another pump, wait my turn,pump the water and carry it back 10 minutes on my head. All of this to wash some brushes.
Is that pump working? I asked. I’d noticed no one was using it today. Nope, she replied. You should fix it for us. That’s your job, to help us. So you should give us money to fix the pump. No, I replied. you know that’s not my job. I’ve explained my job to you before. It is not my job to fix your pump and it’s not my job to give out money. She laughed at me.
Go to robinet (a kind of pump you pay for) right behind the CSPS then. Yeah, and who’s gonna pay for that? You can, she tells me. No, I think, I really can’t. I really don’t have money to spare this month. I don’t have the money, I say. She laughs again. If you’re going to be like that go away from me. I’m tired. I’m just joking she said. Am I laughing? I say. She leaves.
I walk the 10 minutes to another pump, wait my turn,pump the water and carry it back 10 minutes on my head. All of this to wash some brushes.
I get all set with the paint and realize I can’t see the picture I’m painting if I’m painting. Tape, I think. I can tape it to the wall. I ask my new Major for tape. Nope. Don’t have any. Well, what do you put the posters and papers on the wall up with? I reply. We’re out, he says, ask at the Pharmacy. I go ask. I’m out, she says, ask the Major. Are you kidding me? I just asked the Major, I tell her. Oh, well I have some, but tell him he’s got to pay me back. I take the tape back to the Major’s office. She gave me some, but says you’ll have to pay her back, I say. What? he says. Whatever, I think, I’m tired. I just need a little bit, I say. Do you have any scissors to cut it with? No. he says. You should buy me some.
